What does it mean to be a kid at heart?
lean into your inner child, let your spirit once again
be filled with awe and wonder
forget society’s rules that tells you to act your age
to control yourself,
who determines these stupid conventions and norms
anyways
sing out loud at the table, dance in your office
tell a stranger you’re glad they exist,
run in a field of flowers and giggle
lean into your inner child, let your spirit once again
be filled with awe and wonder
With cherry chapstick, I felt like a woman
I felt like a sexy vixen from the telenovelas
even though I was only 9-
and while everyone around me still treated me
like a little girl-
after applying my cherry chapstick
something awakened inside of me
Was it the beginning of puberty?
10/2/22
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
you chased me and chased me until your persistence finally paid off
and I landed in your bed
and now you won’t give me the time of day
make lame excuses for not responding to me texts
and I’m like wow
I never meant to live this cliche in my middle age
but everyone tells me I’m being dramatic
and my feelings feel almost invalid
except this time I listen to my intuition
that something about what you’re doing is kind of fucked up
going from 100 to 0 once you finally got what you wanted
or maybe this is on me for thinking you had changed
and this time we could have something lovely,
something different
how embarrassing for me to be still be naive at 43
but I guess this is the part where I thank you
for the lesson, for the experience
and to please don’t reach out to me when you’re lonely
There are apps for what you want,
there are women you can pay to service you
without any strings or emotional baggage
I wrote this poem in October of 2021.
The rain falls steadily in Autumn
and I remember the 9 days in the summer
When the tears wouldn’t quit raining from my eyes
The eternal emotional pain wouldn’t stop
the lonely nights I couldn’t sleep
the infinite anger and sadness that I felt
the emptiness that wouldn’t
go away
the food I couldn’t eat.
And yet I still woke up
every day with a determination to live
live for my kids
live for my friends
live for myself
even at my worst,
even at my most vulnerable
Somehow, I managed
managed to find strength
managed to find inspiration
and somehow managed to
find my way back to myself
Summer was the season
I died when I was
rejected by the one who
claimed to love me
Autumn is the season I was reborn
and I fell back in love
with myself, forgot him
and fell into the magic
that is me
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
you’re fumbling me bad and you should be ashamed
I figured you learned your lesson by now
but maybe this one’s on me for letting you near me
Silly, Patty
even at 43, I can’t get the hint
that men only want me for one thing
I wrote this poem in October of 2020.
The stillness in my life makes me insane
I’m craving an adventure
I’m craving ecstasy
I’m craving the unpredictable
To lie in the stillness feels like dying
and I want to live
Live life spontaneously,live life musically
Live a life full of excitement
To live in this stillness makes me feel like
I’m drowning in a lake of stagnation
I wrote this poem in October of 2024
is it the gods of bpd and pmdd or the men in my life with 3 of swords energy
making me extra hateful and moody today
are my standards too high because I’m obsessed
with conan gray, joji, and yung gravy
and none of the men in my life seem to hold a flicker of a flame
to the Gods of music I worship
is is the gods of bpd and pmdd or my chronic pain making me a moody bitch
today or is it me not being selective enough with who I’m allowing
into my inner circle and allowing clowns to pollute my energy
because lately my poetry isn’t hitting like it used to
or maybe I just need to uninstall all of my social media apps,
turn off my phone for a few days, and read books and listen to my vinyls
to reset and recharge
I wrote this poem in October of 2019.
And just when I think I have it all figured out–
Everything falls apart again
the universe has a funny way of humbling me
just when I think I finally have it together
When does it get easier?
Am I being punished for not conforming
to society’s expectations of me?
Should I be sorry for not wanting to just be
a wife and mother?
Will I ever be free of society’s shackles
thrusted upon me?
I wrote this poem in October of 2021.
I don’t recognize the
Stranger in the mirror-
the me whose face
has more chiseled features
with a stronger jawline
and haunted eyes
There is no idealism
or fantasies of love
in her eyes
Instead, she stares back
at me with a look
of strength and determination-
like she’s saying –
“You’re your own savior “
and
“There’s no such thing as
Prince Charming”
-“The princess has been left
behind and you’re now a Queen”
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
rest in peace and in power Dr.Vance
you were one of the best things about UGA
you were one of the reasons I got up in the morning
excited to go to class and learn
I never felt like an other or an outsider
as you taught us about Peppys and Johnson’s
many misadventures
it was one of the few classes at UGA where
I was fully engaged
it was one of the reasons why getting a degree
at UGA meant something
but alas, you needed your wings to be free
and fly away from your sickness
I hope you know how much you inspired
your students
I hope that at the end, you understood
how your creativity was a light in this world
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
I tell myself I’m not capable of love-
but that’s another lie
the truth is I’m very capable of love
But I’m afraid of it, I’m terrified of showing my vulnerability
only to once again be proven wrong, to once again go crazy
Only to once again endure the abandonment of another lover
So I lie to myself and say I’m not capable of love
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
moments from the past scatter into our present
you want to forget who we once were
while I try my best to make light of it
and say but we had fun
but you tell me, erase the poems,
forget the stories
Respectful I tell you “no”
we’re a story of redemption
that needs to be told
we’re something of a miracle
to still be standing here alive
and thriving
so while you want to forget
your story of villain and sinner
I advice you not to
own it babe, one day you’ll view it
as a testament of your resilience
and your own story of empowerment
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
The lighthouse stood on the shore and I swam to it-
the lighthouse was full of love-
a love I had always dreamed of-
it was solid and unlike water which runs through my hands
a love who will never leave and truly accepts me
I wrote this poem in October of 2024.
3 years ago I took the wheel for the first time by myself
and there was no going to the dependent woman I once was
3 years ago I said fuck it, if I crash and die, it will be fine
after all I’ve been suicidal since I could remember
3 years ago I took the keys and landed in the driver’s seat
And from that day on, I understood the power I held within
and how never again I’ll give that power to others
I wrote this poem in October of 2020.
He’ll ask me,
“How are you?
And I wanted to say–
“Miserable. Bad. sad. I hate you.
I wished for your death a thousand times.
I miss you. I love you.”
Instead, I said, “I’m okay”
And in the silence between our texts
I wondered
“Why? Why did he come back?
Why did I let him back in ?
Why do I love him?”
Life on the BPD 